


A Chronological Contract

by Sinsational_Sinnabon



Series: Sans Signature [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Emotional/Psychological Abuse, On Hiatus, Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-05-27 10:55:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6281764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinsational_Sinnabon/pseuds/Sinsational_Sinnabon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Prequel to A Done Deal. This story will focus on how the Underfell timeline began and the relationship built between these versions of the skeleton brothers. </p><p>There will likely not be any smut in this fic, unless the end chapters overlap with A Done Deal.</p><p>There will be a lot of mind fuckery and timeline shenanigans, so if you like those kind of things, join in!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Begin

For most, time is a straight line.

 

It starts with birth, and throws a person into a roller coaster of options and chaos; potential and resolution. What one does with their time is limitless, except for one infallible fact - its end. A timeline must come to an end in a finite bang, in it’s wake birthing yet a new set of prospects and happenstances. It’s a gift, for them, to be blissfully blind to all but their own fate.

 

The truth is, time is much more complicated than that. It splits, set into motion by a single insignificant change that brings about an entirely different resolution. By young adulthood, a life could hold hundreds, no - thousands of possibilities. The number of splits are entirely dependant on just how volatile one’s life was in relation their karmic destiny, or how much they are entangled with the fates of others.

 

If most timelines were a crack in the ice, Sans’s was a hammer dropped in the center, bursting outward in an intricate spider web of fissures across the pond's surface. Unbeknownst to him, he stood at the center of a tangled knot of timelines that would affect the outcome of millions.

 

He would influence the future of humans and monsters.

 

It would all be much easier to take in if he, like the majority of folks, was blind to his other selves. It was common to have no idea that there was any possibility besides the course you were currently on. But ever since the accident, he would get flashes of memories that were his, but not. Visions of himself that felt intimately familiar, but had no place in any of his past.

 

Sans’s timeline had been fairly straight forward until about 7 years ago. He couldn’t quite recall what happened, but there had been an explosion. He could faintly remember intricate machinery and intense darkness, darker than the darkest black, and the unsettling feeling someone else had been with him. Every time he reached for the memories, they would squirm away from him like a bait worm from a hook.

 

All his memories prior to the accident were gone. He was left with the clothes on his back and a smaller sibling to raise on his own. No matter how the timeline was split, this remained a constant.

 

No past.

 

No parents.

 

No potential.

 

He woke on the outskirts of Snowdin and set up a house there; a new life. They grew up fairly happy and normal; with brotherly squabbles and the demands of a domestic life. Money was hard to come by, as Papyrus couldn't find work, but Sans provided for both of them without complaint.

 

He found a friend in the owner of the local bar, and spent most of his hours not working basking in the amicable company of the other monsters that frequented. His brother had somehow snagged him a job at a sentry station, which he accepted and shuffled in with his other many jobs that he took to support his brother’s hobbies and dreams.

 

Every so often, the older skeleton would wake in the middle of the night, dripping with sweat, recalling a dream much too vivid to be such. During the day he would stop in place, certain that he had lived these certain moments before. Slightly troubling, but nothing that was serious enough to cause worry.

 

Until the appearance of the Human.

 

It was impossible to recall the first time they had met, covered in dirt outside of the ruins. He had been much happier back then - he faintly recalled, full of bad jokes and pranks. It was days later, violently and abruptly, his world shifted.

 

The senses of deja vu got stronger and stronger. He would get ready for work only to find himself already there, or back under the covers. Sometimes entire days would pass before he jolted up in bed to a conversation with Papyrus that he’d had long ago. It was like life was being yanked out from underneath his feet.

 

He had no sense of time anymore. He had no sense of _purpose_ anymore. Nothing he did ever stuck. Every conversation deleted, every piece of advice redacted, every beautiful moment in his life vacuumed away in a split second. It got to a point where, in some timelines, all he wanted to do was sleep away the rest of his life; ignore the downward spiral of his own sanity that nobody. Even. Noticed.

 

How could you measure a week when you lived it for a year? What was an hour when you experienced it for the twentieth time? There was no proof of course. Everyone around him was living the day over and over like it was their first time.

 

What was the use in doing anything anymore, if everything was just going to be…

 

Reset.

 

That was the term he made up for it, for the feeling of his life bending and folding as easily as silk, touching back on itself in multiple places.

 

Even though he only knew of the resets through faint recollections and dreams, Sans was able to pinpoint the cause of them. They always started back to a few days before the human would exit the ruins, and would end inexplicably at various points beyond that.

 

The point of their death. Somehow, the human was stopping and starting time like one of Alphys’s movies stored on her small plastic rectangles that she found at the dump. The first time he realized it, he had dreamt of an evening out with the young human, entertaining them with harmless japes that his brother had proudly arranged. One wrong step, and a long bone shoved through a small body. Blood covered the snow - and the world snapped back.

 

Again. And Again. And Again. One more dream of the human dying, one more reset.

 

But even before that, Sans was aware of resets. They happened much less often, but still threw him for a loop when he would one day, without warning, regress to a younger time. Do you know how agonizing it is - to grow up over, and over, and over? Most of the time he woke up back at the point of finding Snowdin for the first time, after the accident. Sometimes a flash of yellow would appear in the corner of his eye, only to be gone when he looked. Most times; there was only snow.

 

While everyone lived on a repeat cycle for decades, entirely unaware, something was changing in them. Although they had no conscious memories, the strain of being stuck ground them down to short fuses and shorter tempers.

 

The once sweet town of Snowdin became a cesspool of crime and violence. Well kept buildings fell into disrepair - citizens were less concerned with keeping up appearances through their residence, and instead focused on just how battle ready they were. LOVE, HP, and EXP were the only things that mattered to anyone anymore. If you didn't keep up, you might get dusted in the dead of night, by a neighbor... family.... a former friend.

 

The monsters of the underground began to turn into shadows of their former selves, constantly angry and on edge. The only thing they had in common was a soul deep hatred of humanity.

 

And that is where our story begins.


	2. A New Job

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize younger UF!Sans may seem a little out of character, but it's all in line with his personality development over time. Paps has apparently always been a bit of a bully - he sucks at showing emotion and prefers bravado; wonder who's gonna pick that up.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

The Underground does not favor a weak monster. In this world, the mantra was “Kill or Be Killed”, and the residents took that to heart. Under limited resources and no hope of a way out, being trapped underground had made survival of the fittest a reality; if you didn’t want to get dusted, you would watch your back and make yourself useful.

 

After all, a pile of dust didn’t need to eat.

 

Asgore, their king, didn’t care what his people did. His mind had warped long ago, and now the only thing that mattered to him was capturing humans - seven, to be precise. That is the number that the ancient tomes said would be able to break the barrier that trapped them here. And once they got out… well, peace was no longer an option. All of his attention went to working with the royal scientist to make soul containers and more violent ways of disposing of their hosts. A starving kingdom was of no interest.

 

Of course, they had found ways to grow edible food from the rocky soil and the dim sunlight that filtered through the rocks, but it was often bland and lackluster without the spices found from the surface, washed up in the dredges of the dump in small bottles. Entertainment, also, was a luxury. Most things that fell were broken, and smart monsters learned to make a quick profit on fixing up electronics for the illegal black market.

If not for his quick wit and talent with electronics, Sans the skeleton never would’ve survived. He was only fourteen when he woke on the outskirts of Snowdin, the familiar blankness in the back of his mind where childhood memories usually occupied. There was an intense pain in his left socket; although everything hurt in some way.

 

Bright beacons of light peered out through the snow, surveying the area for any other monsters that could pose a threat. Even with no memories, his soul instinctively felt the murderous intent of others. Every reset the base feeling got stronger and stronger; enough to make his bones rattle slightly with fear at the sight of the town in front of him.

 

Luckily for him, it was night, and a prime hour to sneak in without being seen. He tugged a small lanky form behind him, shushing it when it grumbled faintly. His brother was only a few years younger than him, but it was enough to make him dependant on his brother for survival. His brothers bones were much thinner than his, making him more susceptible to the harsh cold and the snow that was steadily picking up. Hopefully there would be some windless corner to brave the storm in.

 

It was through pure luck that they had found the abandoned house on the outskirts of town, likely someone's home who had recently gotten dusted. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was home. The first night was spent curled up for warmth on the bare rug that carpeted the living area. They were cold, and they were hungry. Not the insistent pull of wanting dinner, but in the painful way that reminded you of starvation and lingering death. Sans would find something when the sun rose.

 

But for the moment, sleep.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning, the filtered cavern light shone in through the windows; hitting tired bones and bleary sockets. Sans forced himself up off of the thin rug, leaving his brother to sleep a bit longer. Finding something to eat was of dire importance, and he might as well start sooner rather than later.

 

The small town looked a bit friendlier during the day, but not by much. He noticed bars on all the windows, and a menacing glare in the eyes of every monster he passed. Wary of those watchful eyes, he sought out the local store, hoping that they would have some work for him to do in return for food. What he got was a carrot to the skull, more half rotten vegetables and fruits pelting his back as the rabbit monster drove him out. He grabbed what he could, shoving the food in his jacket pockets. At least they weren’t bullets.

 

“We don’t need any filthy beggars in this town! Get dusted!”

 

Not discouraged, he tried again at the local in - which functioned more as a brothel for monsters going through Season, a yearly overproduction of magic that was supposed to prepare them for reproduction. Sans was still too young, but he had heard nasty things about what the effects of excess magic had on the body. To his disappointment, things went just as badly there. No one attacked him, but the answer was still a resounding NO.

 

He decided to try one last stop, the local pub in town. Sans had been planning to avoid it in case the monsters inside were looking for fights, but they needed to eat more than the couple vegetables he grabbed. His sharp teeth ground nervously as he stood outside of the door, hand halfway lifted to the knob.

 

‘ *come on ya stupid babybones, paps is depending on you.’

 

Sans took a shaky breath and entered the establishment. Instantly, a trickle of sweat worked it’s way down the back of his skull; the place was boiling hot! The reason was readily apparent, the bartender was a fire elemental; his entire body coated in a bright amethyst blaze. The door shut with a click behind him, and every eye in the room was immediately focused on him. He sweat harder.

 

Glass clinked loudly on the bar in the tense silence as Grillby - it must be him- put down the mug he was cleaning. Four narrowed slits met his eyes, gold spectacles held up by nothing enhancing the bar owners vision. The area above his right eye flickered, resembling a questioning look.

 

The small skeleton approached the bar, peering over the top with some difficulty.

 

“ *sir, i want to ask for a job here.” He tried to sound confident, but couldn’t keep all of the tremor out of his voice.

 

The smooth flame of Grillby’s face opened as he finally spoke, his voice raspy and harsh, like flames devouring paper. Even though it was quiet, it commanded authority effortlessly.

 

“You’re the new folks. Saw you come in last night, took over old Sampson’s place. You have a smaller child with you.”

 

It wasn’t a question, and Sans figured he wasn’t looking for an answer. He nodded anyway. Idle chatter resumed throughout the rest of the restaurant, interest in the new monster fading quickly. Even so, Sans kept his voice low.

 

“ *please sir, i-i’ll be useful.”

 

Another minute passed, his bones getting more fidgety by the second. Eventually, Grilly nodded tersely.

 

“Be here at 8am tomorrow. I don’t have much money for a beggar such as yourself, but you can take home the scraps at the end of the night.”

 

If Sans’s head wasn’t connected firmly to his neck vertebrae, the force of his nodding would’ve likely left his skull on the ground. Stuttering his thanks, he made his way out of the pub. That took care of food at least. He would split whatever he got with paps.

 

Speaking of…

 

Noting the position of the light beams through the rock ceiling, he rushed home. Papyrus was up, the ten year old doing what he could to clean up their new dwelling. He looked over when Sans opened the door, tiny needle teeth scowling. His voice was high and reedy and impressively loud for someone his size; which, admittedly, was rather tall for someone his age. The top of his skull was already an entire head above his younger brothers.

 

“YOU’VE BEEN GONE ALL DAY SANS! I’M STARVING!”

 

You would’ve thought their ages were reversed, as much as his younger sibling bossed him around. Sans couldn’t help it - he may be bulkier, but his brother was much heartier and stronger than him by far.

 

Grinning nervously, he pulled the carrots and crab apples out of his pockets.

 

“ *it was all i could find today paps, but i managed to get a job at that pub we passed.”

 

Sneering, he tugged both offerings out of his brothers hands and started eating ravenously. Sans shoved his hands back in his now empty pockets… he guessed one more day of hunger wouldn’t kill him. It’s not like he could protest anyway.

 

With 1 HP, the only thing he could do was grovel and hope nobody dusted him on sight.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for disappearing like that guys. Not sure if anyone is following this prequel - I know a lot of you just want more Sans and Reader shenanigans, but fear not. I am graduating college in the next few weeks, so that is where a lot of my time has been going lately! 
> 
> This story will likely only have a couple more chapters, and then we get back to the present time with our sans and reader.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

If Sans had a stomach, it would’ve already eaten itself. There was hardly sleep that night, anxiety of what the morning would bring gnawing at his mind. What sleep he did get was fraught with flashes of hazy memories that weren't quite his, yet were unmistakably from his eyes. At least that Sans seemed happy.

 

He woke with the sun and cleaned up as best he could; using the slush out front as an icy handbasin to scrub the stains from his ragged clothing and even out the discoloration on his bones. Grillby had gone out of his way to hire the useless skeleton, and he wanted to look decent. The doors were still locked when he arrived at the pub a few minutes later. He was early. The cold nipped at his exposed bones and the wind traveled right through his thin clothes. Grillby found him that way when he finally arrived to open up shop, hearing the soft rattle of bones before he even turned the corner to the pub.

 

“Up boy.” He rasped quietly. 

 

The keys jangled in the lock and the elemental let the two of them into the dark restaurant. He put Sans to work cleaning tables while he got to work in the kitchen prepping for the day. Warmth quickly filled the pub and all too soon Sans could feel sweat drip down his skull. 

 

If he thought he had been hungry before, that was nothing compared to working through the day, the delicious smell of unattainable food drifting past his nasal cavity as he dumped uneaten food into the trash. Grillby had made him official dishwasher for obvious reasons; fire and water didn’t mix too well, and it turned out that the monster whom Sans had inherited his dwelling from used to work here.

 

Needless to say there had been a job opening.

 

It didn’t take long for his need to eat to overcome his pride. The starving skeleton started small, sneaking fries off of plates before he dumped the rest. Once he realized that Grillby stayed behind the bar for most of the day, he became a bit more daring, finishing half eaten burgers and licking up condiments. There was one - a tangy yellow sauce - that he particularly enjoyed. Most of the plates were licked clean before they even touched water. For the first time since he could remember, he was full.

 

The rest of the day went by without incident, although the one time he was tasked to deliver something to the bar, he was heckled endlessly by the bar’s patrons. He usually enjoyed jokes, but they were a little less funny when directed at him.

 

It was already dark outside when Grillby finally excused him, filthy and exhausted. Sans figured out that his boss was just a fairly quiet guy, and didn’t find it strange when he bid him adieu with a strong nod and a bag of food. It was still warm.

 

“paps! I’m home!”

 

A small bone smacked him irritably in the chest as he stepped through the door. Ouch! Papyrus was sitting on a couch in the middle of the room, one he was certain hadn’t been there previously. 

 

“where’d ya get that couch bro?”

 

Not just the couch, he realized. The entire house had been furnished, a TV propped against the wall, and a stack of books by the stairs. His brother had a sly smile on his face and a grey smudge on his cheek.

 

Ah. 

 

Sans couldn’t even bring himself to act surprised as Papyrus told him about his day. He had come across a rabbit family home in the nearby woods - loners. His story told him that he had no choice but to defend himself against the monsters who attacked, he was just going to take some of their furniture and leave.

 

The glint in his eyes told a different story. His little brother had always enjoyed violence, and there was no question in Sans mind that he would’ve dusted the family; retaliation or not. His soul twisted uneasily as he sat down on their new couch and handed his day's pay to his brother. At least this time he had eaten his portion before hand. 

 

Papyrus tried to act nonchalant about the warm burgers and fries, but he noticed the imperceptible widening of his brothers eye sockets and the desperate way he stuffed his face. Using magic took lots of energy, and after today, the taller skeleton must’ve been running on empty.

 

Among the stolen goods was a bright red race car bed (one of the kid’s no doubt) that Papyrus had claimed as his own and a threadbare mattress for Sans. How thoughtful. Even so it was one of the most comfortable things he’d slept on, and he drifted off quickly. 

 

The next three years passed in kind. Sans’ days were filled with working for Grillby and providing for the two. Papyrus used his days to train and steal objects from the local residents. As Sans stagnated, his brother grew taller and stronger by the day. By the time his seventeenth birthday rolled around, Papyrus (now self titled The Great and Malicious Papyrus, among others) stood at least two heads above his older sibling. He couldn’t tell if he’d just gotten the shit hand when it came to genetics, or if years of letting his brother eat and him starve was finally catching up to him. It didn’t matter.

 

Tension in their little household grew. Every day Sans voiced his disapproval at Papyrus dusting the locals, and every day their altercations got slightly louder; slightly more violent. His brother had tried out for the Royal Guard, and regardless of his age, was quickly rising through the ranks. They were starting to gain a reputation in town, and the townspeople; scared of his brother, had begun to target him. He could see the eyes in the darkness on his way home from work, and tonight he had even had to dodge several bullets. He was still shaking; one hit would be the end of him.  

 

“you can’t just kill anyone you want paps! everyone wants us dusted!”

 

Despite the anger in his voice, his bones rattled faintly in apprehension. Confronting his brother never went well, and judging by the look on the taller skeletons face, it hadn’t been a good day. Empty sockets turned to pass over sans with a disinterested scowl. He looked especially menacing in his work uniform, which he had taken to wearing all the time these days. It was made of shiny black steel and red leather; ornamented with gold trim. While wearing it, he seemed twice as broad and more than twice as lethal.

 

“EVERYONE WANTS  _ YOU _ DUSTED SANS. THEY’RE SCARED OF  _ ME _ . MAYBE IF YOU WEREN’T SO WEAK, THEY WOULD FEAR YOU TOO.”

 

But I don’t want to be feared. The words flashed through Sans’ mind but he would certainly die before he ever let Papyrus know that he didn’t share his penchant for killing. If not for the fact that he was his brother, Sans knew he would’ve been killed off long ago.

 

Papyrus stood up from the couch and loomed over his older, shorter brother. Sometimes Sans wondered if their familial bond was enough… that one of these days he would push too far... Sometimes Sans wanted to give that final push...

 

They studied each other, for a moment, before Papyrus pushed past Sans with a huff; opening the door and walking out into the night. He didn’t offer where he was going, and Sans knew better than to ask. The door shut slightly too loudly behind him. 

 

Letting out a breath that he didn’t notice he was holding, he slumped down on the couch; weariness evident on his features. At times like these, he almost wished for a reset. Where had he gone wrong this time? Every reset things turned out slightly worse. Sometimes his dreams would show him realities where his brother was innocent, upbeat. Where they were the best of friends and supported each other through the hard times. Did a world like that even exist somewhere? Was that version of himself happy?

 

God how he hoped so.


End file.
